


A Sorta Fairytale

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M, episode-related, hurt-comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-05
Updated: 2003-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like destiny, some people make their own fairytale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sorta Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Written [8/24/03] especially for The Cliched Challenge; Smallville Cliche. 

## A Sorta Fairytale

by Lexalot

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/lexalot>

* * *

A Sorta Fairytale  
By: Lexalot 

Summary: Like destiny, some people make their own fairytale. 

Pairing: Clark/Lex 

Rating: NC-17 

Disclaimer: By law, the rights belong to the creators; by definition, the fandom belongs to the fans! 

Spoilers: Red, Visitor, Exodus 

Reference: Music--"A Sorta Fairytale" by Tori Amos from which the title derives. 

Beta: Thanks to lolitaluthor for the wonderful job! 

Part of the Cliche Fuh-Q-Fest at <http://www.kardasi.com/Cliched/index.htm>

* * *

A spent bottle of brandy stood tall atop Lex's desk, and a glass half full of brandy sat in its shadow. 

Lex raised the glass to his lips and tipped it back until every last drop emptied into his mouth. He let the liquor burn in his throat as he gulped it down quickly. The question already born to his mind was what would be next? Now that the brandy was gone, he would have to find something else to chase it, something strong. He didn't care what, as long as it contributed to tonight's trend of drinking himself into oblivion. 

He had sat around all day. It was supposed to have been his wedding day, and now this was supposed to be his wedding night, but instead of celebrating a happy union, he was wallowing in very distasteful self-pity. The color of that emotion did not suit his palette. Luthors were not meant to sulk. It was just another form of exhibiting weakness. Still, these feelings swelled inside him, despite all he had been taught was against his nature. He had been force-fed such nonsense since birth, and he found it decidedly appropriate to mope and allow himself to just feel the wound. Something in him believed he deserved the pain, even needed it, to know he was human, or at least more defined by his humanity than his father would ever be. 

The fantasy had played out in his head on endless repeat. Helen would be driving back to Metropolis, and eventually realize she needed to turn around. She would want to forgive him because she loved him, and this should be what was truly important. She would miraculously show up sometime before the wedding was set to start, or she would surprise him by walking down the aisle when he arrived at the church to announce that it was cancelled. They would marry, and leave for their honeymoon in paradise. They would live happily ever after. Lex's luck with love would finally take a turn for the better. 

He was convinced that if this had been the case, everything would have been fine. 

But it never happened that way. She was probably home in the city by now, already trying to forget him and put Smallville behind her. 

No matter. Lex assumed it wasn't meant to be. He wasn't meant to be happy. He seemed destined to live without ever knowing the kind of love that transcended convenience and lust, the kind that made poets write of its beauty and magic. 

No. That kind of love wasn't for him. He would never have anything pure, good, true, or right--in a word, Clark. 

Why did he do this to himself? He had accepted the thorn in his heart, because in his head, he knew Clark would never be his. With Helen, the possibility for a significant other well matched to him and his life was within his grasp, and he allowed himself to know that Clark was forever out of his reach... What was it they said? It was something his father had quoted on many occasions. "A man's reach should exceed his grasp." He had uttered the words aloud in his mounting state of being under the influence. 

The utterance was a sign he was falling too far from sobriety, and his self-control was slipping too loose. Yet he could not bring himself to stop. 

With much effort, Lex gathered his motor skills into some semblance of order, and managed to get up from his chair and trudge across the room. He felt the sway of the alcohol so powerful that he knew he would have no recollection of tonight come morning. He welcomed that memory omission. Any reminder of this evening would do his ego that much more damage. This depression dragged him against the bottom of the abyss he was always trying to escape, and this low was best wiped from the blackened slate. 

When he began rummaging in the cabinets for something to replace the exhausted supply of brandy, he discovered a bottle of tequila, and this became his new favorite hope for relief. He fumbled with opening the bottle, and, immediately upon succeeding, he brought it to his lips, draining a sizable swig from it. 

Then, he heard harried footsteps enter his office. 

He lowered the bottle and glanced up to see Clark swiftly approaching him. 

"Good, you're already drinking!" Clark stole the bottle out of his hand and downed a shot of it, then carried it to the couch with him. He reclined coolly against the leather, an impatience and unrest about him that somehow seemed comfortablyy carefree at the same time. As Lex walked over to the sofa, Clark took a large sip of the amber liquid, then extended his arm to offer the bottle back to Lex. 

Rather than question any of this, Lex graciously accepted it, and partook of its soothing nectar again, savoring the bitter bite of its numbing sting. It coursed through his veins like venom, and nothing could cure him like this poison. Granted, it was a temporary solution, but it was his answer of choice for the moment. 

Finally, his inquisitive temperament peaked. "So, Clark, to what do I owe this honor?" Lex prided himself on his ability to sound coherent and even intelligent when his mind was completely clouded with static. Somehow, he appeared the picture of clarity and composure, his usual urbane self, his best veneer of who Lex Luthor was in the eyes of others. 

"I'm leaving, and I wanted to see if your offer was still open." 

Clark seemed as though he had descended upon Lex like a hurricane tonight. Lex had been sinking into dark, quiet corners of his soul, and suddenly, in came Clark, electrified with energy and in full-throttle tempestuous youth mode. 

Absorbing the sight of Clark in white t-shirt, tight jeans, and black leather jacket was intoxicating in and of itself. The feel of the situation was eerily familiar, and Lex noticed a ring on Clark's finger that he had donned once before, but Lex was having trouble with deductive reasoning at the moment, so he failed to make the association between then and now. In fact, he was at a complete loss for what Clark had meant by what he'd said. "What offer was that, Clark?" 

"I'm going to Metropolis, Lex. Last time you told me that you'd come with me. That we could stay at your penthouse." Clark paused as he caught Lex smiling. "Clark Kent and Lex Luthor. Out to conquer the world." 

Lex laughed a little. "Conquer, huh, Clark?" He did not remember that being part of the original idea. But it sounded irresistible. 

"Absolutely. You and me, Lex. We can do it. We'd be unstoppable." Another piece of the bargain that was extremely enticing. 

Some stubborn recess of Lex's rational mind was tripping over Clark's proposal. "And just how do you think we're going to accomplish that?" 

One corner of Clark's lips curled in a wickedly mischievous smirk. "Tell me something, Lex. How much do you know about me?" 

Now Lex was grinning just as widely as Clark had been since he strolled in the door. Lex's higher functions of reason were impaired, but this was reading more like a fantasy than reality anyway, so he embraced the illusion as well as the moment. He brazenly continued as though he knew exactly what he was doing. "I can do better than tell you, Clark. I'll show you." 

* * *

With the flick of a switch, light was instantly shed on an obsession that was so much more. The things in this room owned Lex, not the other way around. They owned Lex by proxy. Owned him in Clark's name. As Lex remained in the threshold, Clark ventured into the heart of the room, and he discovered just how much he possessed Lex. In the center of these elaborate displays, he was surrounded by exhibits, of which he was the subject. 

Directly ahead of him was the wrecked Porsche. To his right was a laptop with the configuration of his ship's key mapped out on the screen. To his left was a larger monitor playing out the sequence of events from the accident as the three-dimensional skeleton of a car crashed into a faceless figure and both fell from a bridge into the outlined surface of water. Just behind him was a giant flat panel television with an image of his face upon it as captioned by a serial number and that was duly accompanied by text of documented detail. 

This revelation cast Clark into sublime awe. He was a little bit angry and a little bit impressed, but he was a whole lot flattered. 

Clark breathed with odd comfort. His parents had always been the ones to inflict silence and secrecy upon him. He had always wanted to tell Lex, and he no longer had to fear consequences from letting the truth be known. Indeed, he had already intended on divulging his nature and abilities to Lex tonight anyway. Now that he saw Lex had violated his privacy to collect all this proof and research, Clark was as struck by this glaring breach of their friendship as he was by the overwhelming intensity of Lex's fixation on him. He swam in a river of emotion and he felt like he would be fighting the current to not let it sweep him away. He couldn't be mad. He was too enamored of the attention Lex had been paying him. 

Curiosity breached the quiet that had settled over them. "Why?" Clark asked. Conflicting emotion that wanted to be bitterness bubbled to the surface, but the feeling was awash with red, coloring his resentment with the heat of his deepest and most hidden passion. 

"I just wanted to be close." Pain evident there. "And you were keeping me at a distance." Honesty was not meant to be taken in such excessive doses. 

Clark stepped towards Lex, narrowing the gap as he locked eyes with fierce dominance defining his demeanor. "So that gives you the right to pry?" There was hardly anything malicious in his tone, merely dulled disapproval. He extended a hand towards Lex, and his fingers caressed the curve of Lex's face. A feathery touch, gentle and comforting, reminiscent of one from their childhood so shrouded in chaos and mystery that neither of them remembered it anymore. Lex started to reply to the seemingly accusatory remark, but Clark spoke first. "None of this is really your business, is it, Lex? But that's okay. Because I can forgive you." 

"Forgive me? You've lied to me at every chance. Every time I opened the door, you refused to walk through it. And you say I'm the one who needs to be forgiven?" Lex was too subdued to resonate with authority. The hush of his voice dissolved into the cavernous steel space of the room, and it made him sound exceedingly small. 

Clark's eyes widened with the spark of amusement. "Oh, and you were so honest?" He gazed at the man before him with all the cunning of a predator steering its prey into the trap, his voice both lulling and disturbing. "Come on, Lex. You're a very smart man. Too smart to be a hypocrite." His expression softened, turning deceptively tender. "Come away with me. We have a destiny, and this new beginning is just what we need to realize it." The lure of a siren. And Lex's siren continued to sing. Seductive and angelic. "Think of it, Lex. We'd be free. We'd be powerful. We'd be great!" The most revealing stare from Clark penetrated the haze of Lex's mind enough to make Clark's desire plain. "Lex." So much wanton need in the articulation of his name. 

On that note, Clark leaned in and took the kiss that had been calling him to Lex's lips. The tender sensuality that blossomed between them energized the air. Suddenly so real. So potent. As Clark withdrew from the contact, Lex leaned into him, pursuing his mouth in its retreat, and the moment stretched until they finally broke from one another. 

Lex was breathless, and Clark's charms had worked upon him with insurmountable success. Any will of his own conceded defeat. 

"You belong with me, Lex." Clark was assertive, seeming so certain, so self-assured. Lex was his now, and this was staking his claim. Clark smiled, glancing around one last time to regard Lex's precious collection of treasures related to him. It seemed so fitting that Lex should be the first to worship him and create such a shrine in his honor. "You follow me, and all of this will be in a museum one day. When we're ruling. Together." 

* * *

The Ferrari ripped down the deserted road, flying along the straight line of asphalt that led into Metropolis. Lex was drifting in and out as he bordered on the dull edge of sleep, barely conscious of what was occurring. He knew he was slumped in the passenger seat, and every time he looked over, he saw Clark sitting behind the wheel. Clark was driving them into the dark night ahead. A determination was written all over Clark's attractive features and the wind blew through his short curls, whipping them about almost rhythmically. 

Lex found solace in the image of Clark leading them blindly into the future. Talk of the penthouse and brief impulsive explosions of physical contact littered his memory. Hands had roamed the sacred territory of his body over the veil of cloth, and then they were gone. The fleeting encounters that dotted their path from Lex's little room to the garage surfaced in a fond reverie. Clark squeezing him through the tailored black pants as he was crushed up against the car. Then, he had been released so he could get into the vehicle and they could make their discreet exit. The tiny details like those were what kept Lex grinning even as he dozed off periodically during the long trip to the city. 

When they finally arrived, there were only a few hours left before daylight would break. 

Clark helped Lex into the elevator, and then led him into the bedroom as soon as they got inside the penthouse. Somewhere amidst the whirlwind that ensued, skin was exposed and electrified with lavish affection. Silky flesh and satin sheets. Whispery words like, "I've always wanted you, Clark," and "I've felt all along that we were meant to be together, Lex." A tongue snaked its way along muscular sinews as stray wisps of hair tickled the inside of Lex's thigh. Lex was inside Clark's mouth, and quickly, Clark was taken inside Lex's mouth. The simultaneous stimulation created a circle which flowed reciprocally. When Clark licked the underside of Lex's erection, Lex followed suit and returned the favor. It was not long before the act culminated and the cyclical connection between them was broken. 

They lay there sated afterwards. Motionless, exhausted, peaceful. One's head in the other's lap. 

Somewhere before they succumbed to sleep, they crawled towards the pillows and settled easily under the spell of their exhaustion. 

As sunrise dawned behind the skyscrapers, the very long night finally met its end. 

* * *

Consciousness came slowly. Awake was imminent. Alert was a whole other story. 

He opened his eyes only to find himself in different surroundings than those he had expected. In fact, as he tried to figure out how he had come to be in a totally different place, he realized he did not recall a single thing about the night before. He recognized this as the bedroom of the penthouse in Metropolis, but he had been at the mansion in Smallville yesterday afternoon. Somewhere around the onset of evening, he vaguely remembered the overwhelming urge to drink, and he supposed that was all the explanation required. That would answer a lot of questions and at least account for the gap in his memory. 

As soon as Lex attempted to sit up, his body fell right back into the bed. Ache swam in his weary head and his senses were swamped with confusion. However, nothing could have prepared him for the confusion inspired by the faint groan he heard come from the other side of the bed. He rolled his gaze to the side and there he saw the back of somebody else's head. Short, dark, mussed curls, and a hulking frame outlined by the drape of sheets over a muscular physique that could have belonged to a god. 

Lex shook his head, snickering in spite of himself. It just figured that he would end up at the bottom of a bottle and wind up in bed with some pretty boy he had picked up in his inebriated state. This was very typical of him, although more characteristic of his behavior when he was in high school or a freshman at University than the way he conducted himself these days. Well, it made no difference whether he was twenty-two or eighteen again, the procedure was the same. Shake off the hangover, kick out the mystery guest, and get on with the daily routine. 

He nudged the slumbering figure beside him. "Wake up." He was trying to sound commanding. It was necessary to handle this very matter-of-factly, lest something more be expected of him than the one-night stand this had obviously been. There had to be no illusions about the situation. Whatever this had been, it was over and this person was no longer welcome here or in his life. Otherwise, he was only inviting trouble. 

Lex fought the throbbing in his brain in order to get out of the bed and throw on a satin robe, meticulously constructing physical boundaries that would imply distance. "Come on, get up." He infused his voice with all the authority he could sanely manage with the effects of excessive alcohol consumption still plaguing him. He watched the stranger stir slightly, and that was enough to confirm that Lex's words had awoken him. 

Intent on separating himself from this intruder and allowing them both to dress away from one another, Lex left the bedroom. Disappearing into the bathroom with his select choice of wardrobe for the day, he jumped in the shower. The hope was that the water would invigorate him and the time elapsed would permit his visitor to get ready to leave. 

When he emerged in the bedroom again, clothes were still strewn about the carpeted floor and the large body in his bed had not budged an inch. Lex was already at his wit's end because he had no memory regarding what had actually happened last night, and now this was fraying his patience further. "Get up!" He might not have acted so harshly or cruelly if this hadn't come in the middle of pre-existing turmoil, the very same that had inspired him to seek oblivion in drink in the first place. His hasty anger welled and took faceless aim. "I want you out of here now!" 

Suddenly, the person on the bed whirled around to face him with burning scorn. Eyes glared at him with hurt and ire, holding the locked stare long enough to communicate outrage and disgust with the treatment he was being given. Lex froze where he stood as the figure rose from the bed and snatched garments up off the floor and spat his response at Lex. "Fine!" 

Recognition hit Lex like a speeding train, carrying all the weight of implication regarding the circumstances. 

Lex's heart almost caught in his throat. 

"Clark?" There was not enough surprise written on his face or twisting his tone to properly shape the shock pulsing through him. 

Clark seemed as determined to flee this place now as Lex had been to be rid of him. "You want me gone, I'm gone!" Animosity there. A heated wound. 

Panic overwhelmed Lex at that moment, at the sound of his best and only friend's offense to the wrong he had unknowingly committed. "Clark, no! Wait!" Lex hurried into Clark's path, planting himself firmly in the way to block his exit. "I'm sorry." He felt like that apology did no justice to the chaos reigning down on him and made little excuse for his unwitting behavior. "Please, don't leave! I... I didn't know it was you." 

"You didn't know it was me?" He sounded incredulous, infuriated, and rightfully so, Lex thought. "Don't you remember anything about last night?" 

"No, I... I don't." That admission speared his very soul, because with every second, he felt more and more awful. "I'm really sorry, but I don't." 

Clark shook his head, laughing with contempt for this turn of events. "Wow, you really were plastered." 

Lex's eyes narrowed for a split second, the notion crossing the busy ocean of his mind that those words didn't sound like Clark. "I overdid it. That much is painfully clear." His peripheral vision caught the glint of something as red as blood and shiny as a diamond. All of a sudden, a mental note was made that Clark was wearing his high school ring, which happened to have been the case the last time he seemed so far from himself. Comprehension was working wonders for Lex now, and he really doubted the odds that what he had just observed was coincidence. He gathered his wits about him, defenses raising in light of his suspicion. "What doesn't make sense, though, is what we're doing here, Clark." 

The once innocent boy gleamed with a sinister edge. Clark reached out for his lover, but Lex backed away from the attempt at intimate contact. "We have big plans, Lex. The biggest of plans." Clark was discouraged by Lex's sudden reversal of attitude, and he was hoping to win him back quickly with the same strategy he had executed the night before. "We're going to take over. Conquer! We're going to rule this entire planet, Lex, just you and me." 

Lex threw a stern look Clark's way. "You mean you had big plans. I think I was dragged along for lack of better judgment at the time." 

Deep injury was done there, and Clark fired back reflexively, blazing with red Kryptonite fueled instinct. "The way I remember it, you were the one who practically dragged me to your secret little glorified storage closet full of mementos from our friendship!" 

Lex froze again, this time inside and out. The chill rendered him cold, not only because of the disclosure he had inadvertently made but because of the person to whom he had made it. This was not any side of Clark he had ever known, and it definitely wasn't a side of him he wanted to get to know. Finally, he summoned the will to begin. "Clark..." Unfortunately, he had no clue where to go from there. He could not find the words to speak. 

Clark was a child who simply could not get his way. He was pleading at the same time that he was pushing. He meant for Lex to bend and Lex seemed at his most rigid. "Isn't that what you want, Lex? You want the world, and I can give it to you!" 

"How?" The demand came instead of something more amiable, and their friendship was deteriorating with each passing second. "Exactly what is it you aim to do, Clark? Somewhere along the line, did your plans include telling me what this plot of yours is all about or how you mean to achieve this absurd goal?" Lex couldn't contain his contempt for how he had seemingly been strung along and used without being given any actual consideration. "Did you even mention anything like that last night, or did you just dance around glaring omissions the whole time?" This was about more than secrets. It was about trust. It was about both of them always hiding from each other. 

"Why is it so important? Why do you need to know so badly?" Silence replied and silence alone. Lex did not even flinch in response, and Clark was quickly growing frustrated with Lex's backpedaling. "It's easier to get the truth from you when you're drunk." 

"You want truth, Clark?" Lex scoffed, his voice loud and his tone cynical. Abruptly, the antagonism died and Lex regarded Clark with a sad ache pulling at him. "The truth is I would rather leave everything behind to spend the rest of my life in obscurity with you than go on with this daily charade to become the head of any empire." As soon as Lex finished, he headed for the door, eager to flee, and just like that, he left Clark in Metropolis. 

* * *

The car raced from the highways of the city into open terrain. Green fields stretched along the side of the road and the sun was at its peak point in the sky. It was the middle of what bore every mark of being a beautiful day, but Lex just felt cold and empty. Just like the castle he was speeding back to, not because it was home, but because it was his place, his set station in life. He would carry on as usual, press forward with eeverything he could have ever asked for and none of the things he knew he desperately needed. This was the way it was meant to be, after all. If his life had taught him any one lesson, it was that happiness wasn't a luxury he would ever enjoy. And if yesterday had taught him anything, it was that this was the inevitable truth of his destiny. 

Lex noticed an extraordinary gust of wind blow by his side of the open convertible. Then, suddenly, the car abruptly ground to a halt, like he had slammed on the brakes. However, his foot remained planted firmly on the accelerator, and still there was no movement. After the initial shock and disorientation, Lex picked his head up and Clark was there. He thought maybe he was hallucinating as a result of some accident that had occurred without his knowledge. But he knew what he saw was real. Clark was standing in front of the car with his hands on the hood, holding the entire vehicle at bay there, stopping it from going. Lex glanced down to make sure he was not imagining that the gas pedal was all the way down, and he had definitely not imagined it. 

After letting up on the pedal and somehow managing to think enough to put the car in park, Lex locked eyes with Clark. The boy was staring at him through the windshield, and the most forlorn expression marred his pretty, chiseled features. Something was there that hadn't been before. At the same time, there was something blessedly absent that had been detestably present before. His eyes darted to Clark's ring finger and he found it bare. Though he was still wearing the same menacing outfit that made him look like a rebel, it no longer seemed to match the face he wore. The mask had been peeled away and his true visage was alive with turbulent emotion, his face free of the facade he had donned as a shield. 

Something agonizing stirred in the two of them. Lex watched as Clark lost his nerve to make eye contact. Clark's large, bright eyes darted away as they glazed with tears that it seemed would never fall. The vision of Clark still leaning down with his palms flat on the hood was haunting to Lex. Heartbreaking. He could see Clark's pain. The obvious fact that he had come to try to reconcile this was encouraging, but Lex didn't know how that was going to happen. Seeing Clark blatantly use his abilities for Lex to witness was amazing albeit frightening. His intentions were the real issue at the moment, though. Lex just could not go back to Smallville and pretend none of this had ever been. That would only feed into the hollow feel of his existence and squelch his hopes even more. As he stared mutely at Clark, he had no idea what to say or how to proceed. He left this burden entirely in Clark's hands, because he felt powerless to fix anything. 

A soft breeze rustled the corn and the engine purred idly. The quiet that swelled threatened to drown them. 

Clark drew all his strength to meet Lex's eyes through the glass barrier between them and he finally spoke. "Do you still want to run away with me?" 

Lex blinked, breaking the numb feeling behind his lids. He could have cried. But he simply smiled. 


End file.
